When Revenge Meets Vengeance
by MasqueradingMe
Summary: Under the Red Hood fic: When it comes down to carrying out his plans for revenge, it seems only right that he would be in such close quarters with vengeance. Romantically involved even. Jason-centric three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Set in the _Batman Under the Red Hood_-verse. Beyond that I don't pretend to know anything about Jason or any other DC character. Also, this fic is set before, during, and after the movie with references to but no actual rewriting of the movie scenes. And I'm bending the flow of time as I please. ^^**

**Because Jason needs as much love as he'll accept:**

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><p><em><strong>When Revenge Meets Vengeance<strong>_

"Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged."

-Samuel Johnson

By the time he happens on them, it's over. Jason takes in the scene with more objectivity than most people could pull off. There's blood everywhere. It's covering her hands, soaking through what's left of her clothes, and trailing down her cheeks like tears. But she is mostly unharmed. Aside from the black eye starting to form over her right eye, he can only spot a few cuts and small bruises. And she still has her underclothes on and untouched.

The perp on the other hand is a mess. Or rather, parts of him are a mess. The parts that aren't where they should be. The man is slumped on the ground in a heap, knife in hand. His heart lays a foot or so away, and Jason is pretty sure that's his brain on the other side of the room. There's blood congealing in his mouth and trails of it leading from his body to his lost organs. But despite all the blood, there are no gaping holes in his body, no sign of of his organs being ripped out as they must have been, because there they are, leaking body fluids all over the floor for the world to see.

When Jason lands lightly on the ground, the girl's head snaps up to look at him. Her eyes widen in terror and she stands, swaying slightly as she does. Her jeans are in pieces at her feet and her shirt has been ripped open, but she makes no move to cover herself. She just stands there and glares at him.

"You can't hurt me," she tells him, her voice unconvincing, "So why don't you just go away?"

He doesn't say anything for a few heartbeats. He hasn't decided what to do, because he might not be a good guy, but he's not on par with the now-dead dirtbag either. And it's obvious that this girl needs a hand, regardless of the fact that she can rip a man's insides out. The long-dead Robin in him rears its annoying head.

She shifts uneasily in response to his silence. "What do you want?" she asks, her voice raw with fear and trauma. "Trying to r-rape me didn't work out so good for the first guy," Jason notices that she refuses to look at the dead body, "So what do you want, Hood?"

He walks forward, watching her subtle swaying and trembling. She takes a few unsteady steps backwards, but he closes the distance nonetheless. Jason's timing is, as always, perfect. He reaches her just in time to catch her when her legs give out.

"I'll kill you," she says, and the fear in her voice isn't only for herself, but for him as well. Which is confusing.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says.

She swallows hard, staring up at his masked face. "Then what the hell are you going to do with me?" she asks.

He shifts her in his arms, carrying her bridal style and heading for the door. He's getting the guy's blood on his clothes, but he doesn't really care. "I'm gonna take you home," he replies after a few moments of thought. He feels a pathetic need to prove to himself that he isn't just another criminal. Especially since he's planning to be just that for a while.

"No!" the word is violent as she shouts it and starts to struggle in his arms.

"Easy," Jason growls as she knocks him upside the head, "If ya don't wanna go home, where do ya wanna go? The hospital? A friend's house?" He's beginning to wonder just what the hell he's gotten himself into.

"Just-just put me down," she says, moving in attempt to get down, "I'll figure something out."

Jason, being Jason, doesn't do as she asks. He tightens his grip on her and heads towards his bike.

"W-what are you doing?" she demands, panicking, "Where are we going?"

"My place." He feels her tense, hears the quick intake of breath, and realizes where her thoughts must have jumped to. But before he can correct her she says, "I'll scream."

He chuckles. "And who will come?" he asks, "Who will save you from the big bad Red Hood?" He feels her start to shake. Not the I-was-almost-raped-just-now-and-I'm-still-terrified kind of shaking, but more like an I'm-about-to-go-all-werewolf-on-your-ass kind of shaking. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that she's about to do to him whatever she did to the dirtbag in the abandoned warehouse they just left.

"Chill," he says, pretending he isn't mildly intimidated by her power, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

He sets her down beside his motorcycle. He gets on, then just looks at her. "My place is shitty as hell," he tells her, "but the hot water works and you can take some of my clothes if you want."

She stands there deliberating, and Jason has to force himself to be patient.

She doesn't say anything as she slides onto the bike behind him, but her arms are unhesitating as they slip around his waist and hold on tight. He guns the engine and heads home, trying to ignore the feeling of her pressed against him.

When they come to a stop, six floors up in an abandoned building a few blocks from his apartment, she doesn't pull away.

"Hey," he says, shifting, trying to give her a hint. She's clinging to him so tightly that he feels the deep breath she takes before she lets go. She slides off the bike, still looking as if she's about to fall over, and takes a look around. He can see the question on her face.

"Wouldn't want people to know where I really live, now would I?" he says by way of explanation.

The girl nods slowly. "So what's the price for me knowing?" she asks, staring at him unflinchingly.

He chuckles and pulls a strip of cloth from one of his many pockets. "Who said you get to know?" he asks.

She lets him tie the blindfold on, her clenched fists the only sign of her discomfort.

"This might be scary," Jason warns as he picks her up again. She nods and wraps her arms around his neck as he starts running. To her credit, she doesn't scream when he jumps out of the window.

"This place is pretty bad," she says when he pulls the blindfold off. She observes his apartment with the understanding condescension of a lower-middle class citizen. He doesn't mind. He knows the place sucks, but anything better would be harder to be inconspicuous in.

"Bathroom's in here," he says, leading her into the only bedroom in the place. He doesn't have to watch her to know that she's being careful to stay just out of his reach, and as far from the bed as she can. He pulls a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from the bureau and tosses them to her. "Should be an extra towel under the sink." he says, jerking a thumb towards the bathroom door, "I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" she asks. He doesn't miss the suspicion in her voice.

"Somebody's got to clean up the body," he replies with a shrug.

She's silent as he leaves the apartment the way they came in.

o0o0o0o

He's back sooner than she counts on, so he hears the sobs only half covered by the sound of the shower. He doesn't wait for her to come out so he can comfort her. He didn't sign up for that kind of shit. Instead he turns right back around and climbs back out the window, waits until a few moments after she leaves the bathroom, then climbs inside again.

She's toweling her hair, looking deceptively calm. He stares at her for the few moments before she takes the towel off her head and looks up at him. His clothes swamp her body, concealing all the curves he felt on the bike earlier. She's average height and build for a girl and she isn't the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but she's not ugly either. When she looks up at him, he realizes that it's her eyes that would do a guy in. She's got these gray eyes, and even with the black eye it feels like he's being sucked in, body and soul. They make him imagine things he definitely shouldn't, especially after what almost just happened to her. "So" he says, shaking himself from his thoughts, "Ready to go home?"

The place where she tells him to drop her off isn't where she lives, he can tell. She still doesn't trust him, but that's fine. He doesn't really give a shit. He's ready to be done playing boy scout.

"I-uh-" she says as she gets off the bike and stands beside it. She's looking anywhere but at him.

"Be careful, huh blondie?" he says, and rolls his eyes behind his mask. He might as well go around telling kids to not do drugs and shit. This whole thing is way too Robin for his liking.

"I-" she still can't seem to say whatever it is she wants to say. Jason's ready to just leave her standing there, but then she flings her arms around his neck. She's hugging him of all things. He stiffens and doesn't return the hug, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"Thank you," she says softly, and her voice is thick like she's about to start crying again. She holds on a moment longer, then draws back slowly, her hands trailing down his neck, shoulders, and arms. He should be pissed, because innocent-looking girls do not caress men feared throughout the city for being merciless murderers, even ones that help them out; so this doesn't say much for his reputation. But he's too busy being annoyed with himself for liking it, so he merely nods at her before speeding off. He can see her in his right side mirror for a few seconds before he turns. She's waving him off.

o0o0o0o

Two days later he pulls into his makeshift parking lot to find a couple cans of paint where he normally parks his bike. According to the dots of paint on the tops, the paint is a neutral shade of light green. There's a note taped to one that says "Your apartment might not be so bad if it didn't look like someone threw up on the walls. No offense." It shouldn't, but the note makes him smile slightly.

He should be pissed that his "parking lot" has been compromised, but he can't find it in himself to be mad at the girl. It's his fault for bringing her there anyway. He shouldn't have assumed she'd be too freaked out to notice her surroundings.

He checks the security cameras he's set up around the building and is satisfied to see that she came alone, dropped off the paint, and left again. She didn't plant any cameras, or rat him out. As far as he can tell. He'll still switch up his parking spot to be sure, but he isn't too worried.

o0o0o0o

The paint cans sit in the middle of his apartment for several says, unopened. He tells himself that it's because he doesn't have time and why the hell would he paint an apartment he might not be living in a month from now? But he knows it's really because he's pretending to be too badass for something as mundane as painting walls. Her note sits on his counter for the same amount of time. He sees it every time he gets something from the fridge. It makes him feel a little less shitty about his life every time.

Finally he gives in and opens the cans, and then he realizes that he needs paint rollers and a whole bunch of other shit he doesn't have. It's with no small amount of annoyance that he heads out into the daylight. It's one of the rare occasions of him walking the streets of Gotham without the Red Hood persona, and if he meets someone that recognizes him, he knows who to blame.

o0o0o0o

For about two seconds he thinks, irrationally, that she's planned this whole thing, because what are the odds of meeting her on the busy streets of Gotham? Yet there she is, sitting outside a cafe next to the hardware store, right eye curiously lacking the black eye that should have been there. Her presence is too crazy to be coincidence, right?

But when she glances up, there's no recognition in her eyes. She doesn't know who he is then. Amusingly enough however, she does look him over with obvious approval in her eyes before turning her attention back to her friends. He uses the red light as an excuse to observe her. She's sitting with four other girls, drinking over-priced coffee and laughing like she hasn't a care in the world. He wonders if she told any of these girls that she was nearly raped a week ago. Somehow he doubts it. They don't look like the kind of girls she would be friends with. They look like a group of politically correct Barbie dolls, and she's the ugly duckling. Yet she looks like she's having a good time. It's kind of sickening actually, how normal she looks. He can't help the look of disapproval that makes its way onto his face as he crosses the street and walks past them toward the hardware store.

"I thought I was totally gonna lose it," one girl is saying when Jason walks past, "I mean, who does he think he is, asking me that?"

Jason can't help it, he looks at her again. He wants to see if she's actually interested in this girl's story. It seems that she is. She's nodding and laughing along with the others. It's pathetic. Jason shakes his head as he walks into the store. Pathetic.

o0o0o0o

Except that she isn't. Jason didn't notice it at first, but when he finally does, he actually laughs aloud. Within two days of her almost-rape, police reports began coming in regarding the disappearances of attempted rapists. In a week the number of rapes in Gotham is cut in half. The would-be victims all report the brief appearance of a female, covered head to toe in black, then the sudden disappearance of the perp. Some report that they could hear the perp's screams for a few seconds before they ran for it. One victim calls her mysterious savior "Lady Vengeance" and the name sticks.

Most of the perps reappear a day or so after their abductions, alive but damaged somehow. Jason is impressed. He didn't think she'd have it in her. It's only after a few complaints from his new underlings that he realizes that she poses a problem for him. He told them that he'd protect them in return for a cut of their takings, and he isn't holding up on his end of the deal. Several guys come in with complaints of not being able to feel different parts of their bodies. Important parts. So Jason tells them that he'll have a word with Lady Vengeance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews!**

**And without any further ado:**

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><p><strong><em>When Revenge Meets Vengeance: Chapter 2<em>**

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><p>"Where vice is, vengeance follows."<p>

-Scottish proverb

o0o0o0o

It's pretty easy to find out where she lives. He is surprised though, when he looks up at the house. It's a mansion, not too far from his old home. He didn't figure her for a rich kid.

He waits until all the lights go out before letting himself in through her window. She's asleep already, splayed out on her huge bed and wearing distractingly short shorts and a baggy t-shirt. He puts a gloved hand over her mouth. There's no need for her entire family to be in on this discussion.

"Wakey, wakey, Lady Vengeance."

She wakes slowly, confusion in her sleepy eyes as she takes in the fact that there is a murderer standing at her bedside with a hand over her mouth. He is not surprised when her eyes widen in fear. He is, however, mildly surprised when she relaxes and gently pulls is hand away from her mouth.

"Evening, Red," she says as she sits up, her voice forcibly calm, "Need something?"

He folds his arms across his chest and nods. "I need you to stop attacking my...lackeys."

She doesn't say anything for a few heartbeats. Then she simply asks, "Why?"

Jason has to think about that one. It isn't a question he's used to answering. Usually he would just shoot off a few rounds to gain submission, but he feels like it would be counterproductive to threaten someone he sort of saved. He isn't about to tell this girl his plans, but he supposes can give her something. "I need them," he tells her, "For a few weeks anyway. Then you can go back to business as usual."

Her staring is a little unnerving. He feels like each second she stares at him, she peels off another layer, getting close and closer to Jason Todd.

"So," he says impatiently, "Can you do that?"

"Why can't you just tell the sons of bitches to stop raping people?" she asks. The curse rolls awkwardly off her tongue and the word "cute" flashes in Jason's brain, unbidden and annoying.

"That's not my job," he says, gritting his teeth, "Will you or won't you? I don't wanna fight you, but I will. I..." he swallows back the word "need". He doesn't need anyone. "You'll cooperate or I'll tell them where they can find you. And your family."

She glares at him. "I'll stop making their parts intangible," she says finally, "and...disappearing the sicker sons of bitches. But I won't stop saving the girls they target. And if that isn't good enough for you, I'll make sure your 'lackeys' never hear from you again."

He swallows the chuckle that rises in him. There's something extremely attractive about her threatening him. "Deal," he says.

"Two weeks," she adds.

"Two weeks," he agrees, and turns toward the window, "Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Vengeance."

"Kora."

He turns back to look at her. "What?"

"My name is Kora," she says with a careless shrug that shifts her t-shirt to reveal her bare shoulder, "in case you didn't already know."

He looks at her, sitting there in bed with those short shorts and all that soft skin, and has to force himself to turn back toward the window.

"See ya later, Kora," he says before he goes.

o0o0o0o

He's back a week later. This time, she's completely calm when she opens her eyes to the sight of him standing over her. He feels her sigh against his glove before he takes his hand away.

"What horribly good deed have I done now?" she asks, rolling her eyes and smiling.

It's the smile that pisses him off. In half a second he's leaning over her again, hands fisted in her sheets and masked face uncomfortably close to her own. "This isn't a fucking game," he growls.

She's lays perfectly still, sober now. And scared. Not scared enough to do his bad guy persona justice, but scared nonetheless. "What would you call it then?" she asks slowly, cautiously, "When a good guy pretends to be a bad guy?"

Her words shake him up enough to make him take a step back, but he quickly regains his composure. "I'm not playing," he says viciously, "And I'm not a good guy." The bodies he's strewn around Gotham are evidence of that.

"Okay," she says, sitting up to face him. He can tell by her tone that she doesn't believe him. He doesn't care. She'll believe him soon enough. And he didn't come here to prove himself. He came for answers.

"What did you do to Cole?" he demands.

Her face is suspiciously innocent. "What makes you think I did anything to him?" she asks.

"His daughter sought me out last night," Jason tells her, watching for a reaction, "Told me that Cole's out. Out for good. Who but you could take down a big fish like Cole and do it quietly?"

Her only reaction is to smile. As if she's pleased by his assessment. "She came to you by herself?" she asks, "Brave girl."

Jason nods. He thinks so too. Then he shakes his head and glares. "What did you do to him?" he growls.

"Strange though, don'tcha think?" she says contemplatively, as if he hadn't spoken, "That his daughter would be the one to tell you. You'd think he'd tell you himself. Unless he's too cowardly. But still, why his daughter?"

"What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?" He's losing his patience.

She looks up at him and smiles. "Well, if you must know..."

o0o0o0o

Two Nights Before

He's out of breath when he reaches the designated building. He's a large man, unused to physical exertions, so the trek from his large estate to the bad side of Gotham has left his nice suit soaked with sweat. But the voice said to come alone and on foot. Being a criminal in Gotham has taught him that instructions like these, from someone like this, must be obeyed.

He doesn't take time to collect himself before pulling the large door open. He has no time to spare.

The sight that meets his eyes when he steps into the building makes his stomach heave. His daughter lies in middle of the room, one arm handcuffed to some machinery and the other...the other is no longer attached to the rest of her body. As he walks closer he sees that half of it, from the elbow down, lays beside her body. The upper half is nowhere to be seen.

"Leah," he gasps, choking on his sobs as he makes his way into the room on unsteady legs.

"Dad," her voice is weak, and muffled through the sack over her head.

"I'm here," he says. As he gets closer he can see that there is blood and bruises all over her.

"Sad isn't it?" another voice says from just beside Leah. Then a body appears. All black, with curves that denote female gender.

"YOU!" Cole roars. But he doesn't move any closer, because Lady Vengeance is holding a still-bloody knife to Leah's throat.

"Daddy," his daughter bleats pathetically.

"You're supposed to save girls!" Cole yells, crying, "Why do this?"

Lady Vengeance shakes her head. "I am saving people," she says, "Think about it. You sell drugs. Drugs cause crime. Crime which, you might imagine, often involves abuse, rape, or murder. Things like this," she motions to Cole's daughter, who is moaning, "You cause things like this to happen every day. You cause parents, husbands, and wives to feel like you feel now. So it only makes sense that I put a stop to it, right?" She raises the knife.

"NO!" Cole shouts, "I'll stop! I'll stop! Just don't hurt her!"

"You swear?" Lady Vengeance asks menacingly.

"I swear," Cole says, "I'll never sell again. I'll move away and start over. Anything! Just please! Don't hurt her!"

"Hear that, Leah?" Lady Vengeance asks, dropping the knife on the ground, "He swore."

"Yes he did," Leah replies calmly, and Cole watches with wide eyes as the upper half of his daughter's arm appears out of thin air, joining her lower arm to the rest of her body. It takes his brain a few seconds to realize that the whole thing was a hoax. He's speechless as Leah sits up and takes the sack off her head. She looks at him pointedly as she stands and walks over to him.

"You swore Daddy," she says, "And you better stick to it. Or else I'll tell Mom."

Now Cole begins to cry in earnest. "You horrible girl," he says, hugging his daughter tight, "How could you do that to me?"

"How could you do this to us?" his daughter asks, not letting up.

"You're right," Cole murmurs, "You're right."

Leah nods, smiling and crying just a little. Everything is going to be okay. Then, suddenly remembering the person that helped her achieve all this, Leah steps back from her father's embrace and turns to thanks Lady Vengeance. But the figure in black is already gone.

o0o0o0o

"So the two of you staged all that to get Cole to give up on the business?" Jason asks, speaking slowly as if feeling the words in his mouth will help him believe them, "And you think it'll work?"

Kora crosses her arms and glares slightly, offended. "They skipped town didn't they?" she replies.

"He's a criminal, Kora," Jason says, like he's trying to explain something to a willful child, "Criminal through and through. He won't just stop."

She shakes her head stubbornly and it's annoying and a little cute, this stubborn, foolish optimism of hers. "He's also a family man," she tells him, "He started selling drugs to provide for his family. Something you probably didn't know, did you? Because you don't see them as people. You just see them as heads in a bag to be used for whatever the hell you want."

He's a little surprised that she knows so much, about Cole and about him. But she's still wrong. And she's still messing with his plan "Cole was necessary," Jason says, "A major drug dealer heading for the hills in the middle of the night will look bad for me." Especially with the Black Mask breathing down his neck. Jason's bought-off fools are scared enough as is.

"Well then you'll just have to work extra hard, won't you," she sneers, "Ya know, kill some more people, ruin some more lives. Hey, maybe if you start killing innocent people too, then you'll get what you want. Whatever the hell that is."

They glare at each other for a few moments. He wishes he could just kill her, wishes he didn't feel some sort of obligation towards her, wishes there was nothing preventing him from putting a bullet in her head and solving the problem altogether.

"What is it that you want, Red?" she asks, and her voice sounds too sympathetic, too much like a psychiatrist -And how does that make you feel?- for his liking.

He's gone before she can say another word.

o0o0o0o

The next night, he finds her in one of the clubs now under his jurisdiction. She's dressed to kill, perhaps literally, he thinks. Her short skirt and low-backed shirt are certainly attracting plenty of attention. Too much attention. He watches her dance for a few minutes, trying to deny the irrational worry that rises in him from seeing her surrounded by such scum. Armed scum. Some of which she's all but castrated in the last couple weeks and who Jason knows would love to have another go at her. When he can no longer deny it, any more than he can deny his damned attraction to her, he begins to look for an opportunity. He knows it would be completely stupid to pay any special attention to her with all these witnesses. So he waits until she heads towards one of the dark halls leading off the dance floor, then he reaches out from the dark, grabs her wrist, and heads for the door.

"What-" she says, but she doesn't pull free, and she doesn't say another word until he has her pinned against the wall six floors up on the roof.

"What the hell, Hood?" she says, unafraid, "I was working. And I wasn't breaking any rules."

And he can't stand it. He can't stand her tone of voice and how sexy she looks in those clothes and how much he wants her.

Her eyes widen as his helmet hits the rooftop. Then his mouth is on hers and her eyes flutter shut and she's moaning into his mouth and it's the stupidest fucking thing he's ever done and undeniably the most worthwhile. It isn't until he runs his hands up her thighs, under her skirt, and she stiffens, that he remembers just what happened before he met her that first time. That thought cools him off some. He pulls his hands away and she laces her fingers through his as he pulls back slightly to look at her.

"You would wear another mask under that helmet," she says, amusement shining through the slightly dazed look on her face. He kisses her again. Partly to shut her up and partly because he really fucking loves her mouth. Then he grabs his helmet and heads for the ledge of the building, putting the helmet on as he goes.

"See you 'round Kora," he says, and even he can hear how smug and satisfied he sounds. He flings himself into open air.

o0o0o0o


	3. Chapter 3

**And this is it. Hope you enjoyed it!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>When Revenge Meets Vengeance: Chapter 3<strong>_

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><p>"Revenge is a confession of pain."<p>

-Latin proverb

o0o0o0o

Everything fucking hurts, and he doesn't remember how he got here, but suddenly he's standing outside her darkened house for the third time in three weeks. "Stupid fucking bomb," he mutters, his words as much as his muscles pushing him forward, "Stupid fucking Batman. Stupid fuckidifuck-" Scaling walls after nearly being blown apart is not what you would call fun.

She hears him coming this time. He's surprised her whole family doesn't hear him and come running, he's so clumsy as he makes his way into her room.

"Geez," she hisses when she sees him, "Red, what did you do?"

He manages a laugh. "Had a little party," he says, "Me, Joker, and Batman," the names sound like curses on his lips, "It was-it was fun" She catches him when he falls, and sets him gently on the floor. The last thing he remembers is looking up at her face and being surprised by the obvious worry he sees there.

o0o0o0o

He wakes up in a hospital room. The nurse that comes running, signaled perhaps by the pulse monitor he's hooked up to, tells him that he's in Metropolis, and that the young lady that brought him in said his name was David Ishmael.

"Is that right? Do you remember anything?" the painfully helpful young woman asks, "Do you remember being mugged? How do you feel?"

"I think you're overwhelming him," Kora says from the doorway, saving him from having to think, "Why don't you let him rest a while?" The nurse looks like she might protest, but Kora keeps talking, coming further into the room to stand between Jason and the nurse. "I think he just needs to see a familiar face," Kora says, her voice persuasive as her body language guides the nurse toward the door, "I'll call you in as soon as he's calm enough to answer your questions."

The nurse looks disconcerted, but leaves nonetheless. Kora shuts the door.

Jason puts a hand to his bare face and glares accusingly at her.

"Couldn't exactly be avoided," she says, rolling her eyes as she comes to sit in a chair next to the bed, "How ya feelin?"

Her accent is slightly different now. "You're from here," he replies, slightly shocked by the revelation.

"So you're feeling better then," she says, ignoring his statement, "Good. Listen up. Your name is David Ishmael. We're in town for business, and you've been brutally beaten and mugged. The cops found you about the same time as I did, so you've already given your statement, but they had some emergency so that's why I had to bring you in."

He nods slowly, looking down at his arms and torso and trying to remember all the other wounds he would now have from fighting Batman and nearly blowing himself up. Then he tries to compare them with the wounds of a mugging/beating victim. But for some reason-he suspects the drugs they've got him on-he can't make a proper analysis, so he just asks, "Why Ishmael?"

"Because Ahab would have been a dead giveaway."

He's no literary buff, but he knows enough to recognize the name and understand the geeky insult. "Thanks," he says flatly.

"Anytime," she replies with a grin. He wonders if she's so cheerful because he's awake or because he's in a position of weakness before her.

"I'll go get the nurse," she says, heading for the door.

o0o0o0o

The nightmares are pretty bad, but not the worst he's ever had. They're more centered around emotions than actions, which is annoying but not horrible. Or so he thinks. His subconscious apparently thinks otherwise, because on the second night after waking up in the hospital, Jason wakes up with the urge to cry.

He hasn't cried since his parents died when he was a kid. He didn't cry in those moments before death, he didn't cry when he came back to life, and he certainly didn't cry when Bruce turned his back on him. So he shouldn't feel like crying now. But he does.

"Red?"

He's startled to find Kora walking over to him from where she apparently fell asleep in a chair by the window. "You alright?" she asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at him with something like worry in her eyes. He doesn't say anything. He just leans forward and wraps his arms around her. With his face pressed into the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, he starts to cry. She's probably surprised, but she wraps her arms around him and rubs comforting circles on his back. When he doesn't stop after a few minutes, she slides forward a little and holds him tighter, holds him as if she's holding him together.

"I just-I just," he says into her skin, sobs breaking up his words, "I just want him dead. Just want him fucking dead. Why-why didn't he-why couldn't he-?" His words shutter to a halt and he just cries, cries for all the times he never did.

She doesn't ask questions, doesn't tell him it will be alright, doesn't lie. In retrospect, that's probably one of the reasons he went so far with her.

o0o0o0o

He doesn't get to sleep through the rest of the night. Just before dawn he's awakened by the sound of the window closing softly. Under the blanket of the hospital bed, Jason reaches down to wrap his fingers around the gun lying at his side. He glances over at Kora who's still asleep, arms wrapped around him as if she can protect him from his own demons. Gently he sides his arm out from under her and sits up, effectively blocking her face from his visitor's view. "Long time no see, Nightwing," he says.

"Jason," Nightwing replies with a nod. His face is serious, his arms crossed over his chest, but he isn't attacking. Jason wonders why.

"Bats on his way?" Jason asks, wary and hopeful at the same time.

"No," Nightwing replies, shaking his head, "He doesn't want to have anything to do with you."

Jason laughs, all anger and bitterness and no humor. "Course not," he agrees, "I'm his biggest failure. So what, he send you to take care of me? Bring me to justice?" he spits the word out, "You here to take me in, Dickie?"

"He didn't send me," Nightwing replies, his face giving nothing away, but his voice unusually soft, "I wanted to see-with my own eyes, I wanted to see if it was really you."

"Well it is and it isn't," Jason says congenially, sliding further into the safety of his Red Hood persona, "Didn't DaddyBats tell you? I've gone batshit crazy, no pun intended. But hey, I'm not dead. Aren'tcha proud, big brother?"

"You plan to keep killing people, Jason?" Nightwing asks, and Jason remembers that tone of superiority. It damn well brings back memories.

"And what if I do?" Jason asks, leaning forward, "You gonna save all those sick sons of bitches from the big bad Hood? Lock me up and leave me to rot?"

Nightwing sighs. For a few moments the two just glare at each other. The non-violence hangs heavily in the air. This isn't how they're used to dealing with each other. It's almost awkward, not trying to beat each other up over something this serious. Jason's tempted to start a brawl just to ease the tension, busted ribs be damned.

"Who's the girl?" Nightwing asks, jerking his chin in her direction. From the look on his face, he doesn't really care, he just wants something to say so he doesn't have to answer Jason's question, but Jason glares anyway.

"None of your fucking business," he replies.

Nightwing looks at him for a second, then shrugs and sighs in exasperation. "What do you want, Jason?" he asks. It's the million dollar question. What does fucked-up Jason want? Why is he acting like a psycho? How can he be saved?

"You know what I want, Dickie?" he answers, glaring, "I want you to leave me the fuck alone. You and him. Think you can handle that?"

"Sure thing Jason," Nightwing hisses, then turns and heads towards the window, "But try that kind of thing again, and I will stop you."

There it is, the ultimatum: if you keep acting crazy, we become enemies.

"Guess we'll see, huh brother?" Jason says as Nightwing goes through the window.

o0o0o0o

Jason sits there for a few minutes after Nightwing leaves. He just sits there and thinks. And tries to ignore the fact that Kora is no longer asleep. He doesn't know exactly when she woke up, and he doesn't want to think about what she might have overheard.

She shifts finally and he fights the urge to look back at her as she puts a hand on his arm.

"You're Jason Todd," she says quietly, "And you were Robin."

He doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't that. He shifts so that can look down at her. The surprise is evident on his face. Even after hearing the entire conversation she shouldn't have been able to make the connections. Not with 'Jason Todd' having died and all. He underestimated her. Again. It takes him a few moments to realize that there was pity in her voice. He finds the same pity in her eyes.

"I don't need your pity," he says harshly, glaring.

She frowns at him. "Well too bad," she says, "Cause it's pitiable. You'd have to be heartless to think otherwise." She says it like it's a fact, like pitiable things are commonplace. He studies her again, looking for any hint of condescension. He doesn't find any, so he relaxes some.

"You aren't going to ask who Batman is?" he asks.

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Cause I figure I already know," she shrugs as she says it, "And he isn't as important." She doesn't say what's more important, but Jason is pretty sure he knows. The idea makes him a little uncomfortable.

He looks at her in silence for a few heartbeats, then he hesitantly lifts a hand to her face. She doesn't tell him not to, so he cups her cheek in his hand, running his thumb over the soft skin. She is still under his touch. His thumb brushes over her lips and Kora sucks in a breath. Her expression doesn't change though. She just watches him as he runs his thumb over her lips slowly, like he's mapping her. It's gentler than he's been with anyone in a very, very long time, and it's all the more intimate for that.

After what seems like much longer than it is, Kora speaks. "I'll kill him for you if you want me to," she whispers.

Jason stills, eyes rising to meet hers. She's serious. "The Joker?" he asks. Because he doesn't know how to respond yet.

"Yes."

He chuckles. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he tells her.

She remains silent, waiting for an answer. He returns his attention to her lips. She doesn't push for an answer, just watches him think it over.

For a second he's tempted to say yes. It would be easy for her. She could simply walk into the bastard's cell and slap his brain out of his head. It would be done before anyone could react. And then it would be over. The Joker would be dead, finally dead.

Memories play through his mind like a sick slide-show. He lets himself remember his death at Joker's hands. He lets himself remember every blow, every one of the sick bastard's taunts. For once the memory doesn't bring rage sweeping through him. Then he remembers how things played out three nights ago and the things that Bruce said, and he just feels hollow. When it comes down to it, as much as he wants the Joker dead, it wouldn't mean anything if Kora did it. She would do it out of affection for him, or maybe because of her role as Lady Vengeance, but what does he care if she sees him as being worth avenging? Bruce obviously doesn't think he's worth it. Beyond that, no one else matters.

"It's alright," he tells Kora, "Forget about it."

She wraps a hand around his wrist, stopping his movement. "Are you sure?" she asks.

He looks at her eyes. This is the most serious he's seen her. She's worried for him and that means a lot more to him than he'd like it to.

"I'm sure," he answers, "but thanks for offering," he chuckles, "There aren't a whole lot a girls that would offer to kill somebody just to make someone feel better."

She smiles, the seriousness sliding out of her eyes. Turning her head, she kisses his palm. "Anytime," she says. Then her eyes widen. "I mean," she says, "You know-"

And Jason laughs. "I know what you mean." And he does. He knows it's sick, but it makes him feel better to be reminded that she will kill with enough incentive. Because she's definitely good, and if she can do it, he can't be that much of a monster, right? That thought brings another, more practical thought to mind.

"Do your parents know you're here?" he asks her.

"My-wha?-oh, you mean my aunt and uncle," she answers, obviously confused by the change of topic, "I told them one of my friends was having an emotional breakdown and needed moral support," she shrugs, "I'm not a kid, so they don't question me."

"Aunt and uncle huh?" he asks. He realizes now that he knows nothing about her.

Kora smiles like she knows what he's thinking, then answers. "Yea, my aunt and uncle," she says, "They're letting me live with them while I do a semester at Gotham U. A bit of charity, really."

There's something in her tone that says there's more to the story, but he doesn't ask. Instead he asks, "So what happens now?" Part of him wants to know what she thinks she is to him, but part of him wants to get the hell out of there without ever knowing.

Kora shrugs. "I dunno," she says, "I figured I should go clean up your apartment in case the police found it somehow."

This is not the answer he expected. He's impressed once again. But still curious. "Why do all that for me?" he asks.

She blushes but doesn't answer. She doesn't have to. He knows enough about people-Robin had to know how people work-to know infatuation when he sees it. Shit.

"Kora," he says.

She flinches at his tone. She doesn't look at him for a few heartbeats. "It's cool," she says finally, looking at him with a forced smile on her lips. She pulls his hand away from her face and moves to get up.

He pushes her back down onto the bed and leans over her. "You can go back to Gotham later," he says before he kisses her. He knows he's sending her mixed signals, but he can't help himself. Hell, he is a fucking mixed signal.

o0o0o0o

As he lays there in the hospital bed, watching Kora get dressed, Jason thinks that it's the most peaceful he's been since his return to the land of the living. When she's fully dressed, he slides to the edge of the bed and stands up.

"I'll be back tomorrow I guess," Kora says with a shrug as she comes to stand opposite him.

He nods and says nothing as she slips her hands into his. When she looks up into his eyes, smiling that little smile of hers, he thinks that this is how morning afters should be. Little moments like these, filled with peace, contentedness, and a certain absence of reality, are probably what make up relationships.

"I love you," she says, blushing slightly and biting her lip. And waiting, clearly waiting for him to return the sentiment.

"I love you too," he lies.

As he kisses her, he thinks to himself that her smile really is beautiful.

"Take it easy, alright," Kora says as she steps back.

He nods. "Don't worry," he says, "I'll be good as new in a few days." More lies.

She gives him one more chaste kiss, then is out the door, smiling over her shoulder as she goes.

o0o0o0o

"Are you sure you want to leave, Mr. Ishmael?" the overly helpful nurse asks him, "The doctor said you need to rest a few more days..."

"I'm sure," Jason tells her firmly, "Is there any paperwork I need to fill out?"

"No sir," the nurse replies, heaving a sigh, "Your girlfriend already took care of all that."

Jason wipes the mild surprise off his face before the nurse notices. Kora must have paid the bills too. "Thank you," he tells the nurse, smiling politely and turning toward the door.

"You-your girlfriend," the nurse says, stopping him, "She said she would be back tomorrow. You aren't waiting for her?"

"No."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her face shift from surprise to scorn. He knows that when Kora comes back, this nurse will comfort her with all the man-hating words girls tell each other to lessen the blow of a break-up.

Jason heads for the door. He doesn't really give a shit.

o0o0o0o


End file.
